


Of Devils and Punishments

by wordslinger



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, Gen, Miraxus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinger/pseuds/wordslinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bixlow wonders why he's the one being punished when it was Laxus who did the crime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Devils and Punishments

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Fairy Tail.

This was written for [sagethesupermage](http://sagethesupermage.tumblr.com/) based on her list of [Miraxus headcanons](http://sagethesupermage.tumblr.com/post/120133850384/miraxus-headcanons).

* * *

 

            Bixlow sighed heavily and balanced his chin on the palm of his hand. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to make Laxus tolerable when he was in this kind of mood. Not that Bixlow was drinking at all - he’d just been patiently waiting for the dragon slayer to reach his limit and pass out. It wasn’t a good idea to be drunk along _with_ Laxus if he got wasted enough to act on one of his Big Ideas. Sadly, though, it didn’t look like he’d reach that limit any time soon.

            “Her hair does this crazy thing when she sleeps, and it’s always a mess in the mornings. She hates it. Did you know that, Bixlow? _She hates it._ ”

            “That’s _so_ interesting,” Bixlow mumbled, eying the bottle of liquor at Laxus’s elbow. How bad could one drink be? He almost reached for it until remembering Freed’s threat of punishment should Laxus get out of hand.

            “And did you also know I haven’t washed my coat in a month?” Laxus pressed his nose into the furry collar and inhaled. “It smells like Mira.”

            “God _damn_ it.” Bixlow buried his face in his arms. Why was _he_ on babysitting duty? _Why?_ Wouldn’t it be better for Evergreen to handle this kind of thing? She was a chick, and this was definitely a chick kind of problem.

            “Hey, Bixlow,” Laxus swiveled clumsily on the barstool to face him. “I think I should apologize in person. How about we-“

            “ _No_ ,” he interrupted. “We’re not going _anywhere._ ”

            “It’s not too far a walk to the old house, we could just-“

            “No. You’re drunk and Mirajane is _very_ angry at you. I’d rather not have her angry with _me_ too.”

            Laxus slumped dejectedly forward, again, and pouted uncharacteristically. As much as Bixlow hated seeing his friend and leader in such a sad state, the idea of upsetting both Mirajane and Freed simultaneously made his skin crawl. The chivalrous-looking Freed may be well spoken and dressed, but he had a special way with pain infliction – to say nothing about the she-devil Laxus had married.

            “Did you know that she waits up for me on the couch when I leave town? I always find her asleep there.” His voice was so quiet Bixlow almost missed it.

            “Look, Laxus, I’m sure it’ll work out. Just give her some space, and for _fuck’s sake_ give it _time_. You _did_ blow a hole in the house.”

            “It wasn’t my fault! It was her moron brother’s fault!” Laxus abruptly stood, tumping the stool over in the process. _“Only I get to say what’s manly about my own child’s nursery!”_

            Bixlow’s eyes rolled heavenward in a silent plea for serenity. For his own sanity he hoped Mirajane would forgive Laxus soon. Though, she _had_ banished Elfman, too, so it could be a long road ahead.

            “Come on, man, get yourself together.” Bixlow righted the stool, and shoved Laxus back onto it.

            Laxus clumsily poured another drink and stared into the amber depths. “I just want to go home. I miss my wife.”

            A low growl emanated from Bixlow’s chest. It wasn’t fair to be forced into sobriety when Laxus was wallowing in drunken sorrows.

            “She tastes like peppermint, did you know that Bixlow?” He downed the glassful of whiskey. “ _Nobody_ kisses like Mira.”

            _Fucking hell._ Bixlow hated his life.

 


End file.
